


Would It Be A Sin

by orphan_account, VelvetEternity (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Harry Potter, Animal Transformation, Co-Written, Harry Is Voldemort's Pet Fic, Harry Potter By HoneyLatte, M/M, Mystery Animagus, Scarred Voldemort, Tom Riddle | Voldemort By VelvetEternity, glamours, stuck in animagus form
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/VelvetEternity
Summary: A potions accident triggers Harry Potter's magic to force him to seek safety by trapping him animagus form. Injured, Harry finds himself in the care of the dark lord, and the longer he stays with the man, the more he comes to care for him, and the more he fears his reaction when he learns who he is.Though he's aware his new "pet" is an animagus, Voldemort isn't sure if he should be having feelings for someone he only knows in animal form, but the more he cares for the creature the more he can't help his feelings from evolving into something less than appropriate. The more he wishes he knew the person trapped in animal form. Love was never logical anyways.(Honey: I decided to put all co-writes and adoptions under my Blaire Graves psuedonym)





	Would It Be A Sin

_**Would It Be A Sin** _

_**Blaire Graves (HoneyLatte)** _

_**Chapter One -  Spark** _

* * *

The explosion is a shock to everyone.

The potions classroom is thick cloying scent of the potion, a relaxation draught, and although it is not an easily brewed potion no mistakes have been made as of yet. So, when Harry Potter's potion explodes, an irregularity considering his newfound potion skills, everyone positively leaps into the air. All eyes turn to the mess. When the smoke and light clears they stare at the mess. The work bench is covered in a purple bubbling liquid burning through the wood of the desk while not effecting anything not made of wood. The cauldron is melted into a lumpy glob of metal.

Harry Potter is no where to be seen.

\--

Harry sees the dried lizard sailing through the air from Malfoy's hand to his cauldron, but he's unable to catch it in time. His potion turns yellow, then purple, and Harry has just enough time to take a step back before the world explodes into bright orange light and pain. There is nothing beyond the pain but spinning and ringing. He feels his body contort, shifting and shrinking, and when the light clears Harry has a second to register flying before he finds himself in a different kind of pain. 

There's a giant snake attacking him, striking out to catch him for dinner. Fangs catch on his wings before he can get far enough away, and Harry flaps his broken wings uselessly, squeaking in terror. Harry tries to shift out of his animagus form, but he's never actually managed a shift before, only having discovered his form a week earlier. He hasn't cast any of the spells, taken any potions, or undergone any rituals yet. He shouldn't be able to shift yet, and perhaps that is why he can't shift himself back. Harry squeaks loud as his little body will let him, trying to get away from the snake.

"Nagini!" A hiss interrupts. "Stop playing with your food. I'm trying to work."

"But Master it smells human." The snake answers, and Harry suddenly realizes where he knows that name.

Voldemort walks around the corner, and picks Harry up. He looks nothing like the serpentine monster Harry normally sees him as. He is just as tall and thin now, but he's human. Harry is staring at the elder version of Tom Riddle from the diary. He looks to be in his twenties but for the dignified white streaks at his temples, and pale white scars decorate his skin in long slashes. One scar crosses down the right side of his face, cutting a jagged line through his eye, leaving the one it crosses over a milky pinkish color, the left one is the same sanguine red as it always has been. Lightning, ironically is the word that comes to mind, for the scar is a near match to his own lightning scar, though longer and taking up more of his face.

"Transform." comes the command, English, and his voice leaves no room for debate.

 _"I can't."_ Harry tells him, though all that comes from his mouth is a series of squeaks. Bold since he knows his words wont be understood Harry takes great pleasure in adding, _"And even if I could I wouldn't you horrible murderous fuck."_

Voldemort seems to understand enough though. "Either I'm being insulted, or you can't change back."

 _"Both."_ Harry squeaks petulantly.

"You're not some form of were, the moon is not full." Voldemort muses. "So you're either an animagus, or you were transformed against your will. Can you squeak once for animagus, twice for transformed against your will."

Harry squeaks three times.

"Squeak twice if you're purposefully being a pain in my ass." Voldemort's eyes narrow. "Squeak once if you're an animagus who has been transformed against your will."

Harry squeaks once, ears twitching. Voldemort reaches a finger out, and Harry bites him. The dark lord snarls at him.

"I'd let go if I were you." He says. "I'm trying to check the extent of your wounds."

Harry releases the dark lord's finger, tiny tongue darting out to catch a drop of blood. His wings are stretched out which brings worse pain than the crucio, and Harry makes sure to squeak his anger at the unintentionally rough treatment, biting the dark lord's hand again.

"Ouch, okay okay!" Voldemort removes his fingers, and Harry removes his fangs from the soft flesh of the palm he's sitting in. "Can you squeak once if any spells or potions were used in transforming you?"

Harry thinks for a second. There is definitely a correlation between his exploding potion and his animagus transformation. Harry squeaks once.

"Do you know what the potion was? One for no, two for yes."

One squeak, because Harry doesn't know what adding a whole dried lizard makes a half-finished relaxation draught since it is not an ingredient needed.

Voldemort looks a bit disappointed. "Well, I suppose it's just as well. I'd have had to list every transformation potion and spell I know, and that would have taken quite some time. Of course, without knowing what potion or spell you were exposed to, I can't be certain what potions and spells I can use to heal you, let alone help you transform back into a human. I'm afraid we'll have to do this the hard way."

Harry only has to wonder at what the hard way is for the ten minutes it takes for Voldemort to reach what Harry's almost positive is his bedroom. He bandages Harry's wings with tender fingers, and makes him take a small spoonful of anti-venom, even though Harry hasn't shown a single sign to suggest he needs it. Wings wrapped up, Harry has trouble even walking, and the dark lord gives him a pitying look.

"These should heal soon." Voldemort says. "Eight weeks is my rough estimate, and with any luck you'll fly again, though I'm no vet. You're best bet would be to avoid transforming back during that time, and with a little magic and care you should be back in the sky, or back on your feet, in three months."

" _Thanks._ " Harry squeaks.

Voldemort seems to understand as well as a human can, and the dark lord smiles at him. "You know, you're an unusual color for a common pipistrelle bat." Voldemort remarks.

It's true, Harry's fur is black as his hair, with only a small patch of light brown on his tiny head that if viewed under a magnifying glass would look like a lightning bolt, but to human eyes would only be an odd squiggly spot. His tiny black eyes have only the smallest sheen of green to them, near impossible to notice. He's not small for his species, actually on the larger-average size as far as length goes, but lighter than he should be. It's not odd when you take Harry's human form into consideration, tall for his age and far too thin.

"I can't go around just calling you bat, so until your healed enough to try transforming back, would you mind if I called you Bandit?" The dark lord asks. Harry's confused squeak must translate, because the man chuckles. "You're a common pipistrelle, also known as a Bandit Pipistrelle. And it was that or something stupid, like Dracula or Leather."

Harry thinks Bandit is a perfect marauder name, in more ways than one. His father and Sirius would have liked it. He squeaks once. Voldemort smiles.

* * *

[In case you wondered how a pipistrelle bat looks or sounds like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYjf6o8yIew)

 


End file.
